Like the Pieces of a Puzzle
by The Jester Erebus
Summary: Harry deals with the feelings he has for a certain professor. Companion fic to "Like a Moth to the Flame."


**This is a companion fanfic to my other story, "Like a Moth to the Flame," which revolves around Ginny/Luna. I put some hints of a Snape/Harry relationship in it, and I've gotten reviews wanting me to post Snape and Harry's side of the story. So here I am, writing yet another Snarry fanfic (Yay! Go Snarry!) Thanks goes out to everyone who reviewed, your reviews made me a very happy author indeed!**

Harry sighed as he tugged his robes on, snagging his glasses as he pulled the robes over his head. Slughorn's party was tonight, and he wasn't particularly looking forward to it.

'_At least it might take your mind off of other things, Harry…'_

"Shut up," Harry mumbled to himself as he stared out the window looking down on the Great Lake.

The shadow of a black robed figure still lingered in the back of his mind.

He didn't know why at night he dreamed of long, yellowed fingers running over his skin…scarring him, soothing him, healing him, hurting him…he didn't know why he saw those bottomless black eyes in everything he looked at. They seemed to be haunting him…_he _was haunting him.

Harry shook his head in disgust. He was a freak, he had to be. Certainly no other boys at Hogwarts fantasized about greasy, ugly old Severus Snape.

He hoped not, at least. That would make his chances even slimmer.

'_What chance?' _the little voice in his head mocked. _'Even if he knew, he wouldn't want you. He hates you.'_

But Harry still had hidden hopes, even though he did not want to admit it to himself. He saw the way Snape looked at him sometimes, at dinner, or in class, that smoky, heated glance that sent sparks and shivers up Harry's spine.

Harry shook his head and as he started for the door. "Bye, Ron."

Ron grumbled a response, but Harry couldn't hear it. His thoughts were wandering again, to those heavy robes and that buttoned frock coat that he longed to rip apart in a fevered rush of passion that would consume him.

He wanted Snape to desire him, to take him, to consume him...and Harry wanted to touch him, make him lose his self control.

'_You are not normal…'_

But he already knew that. He wasn't a normal boy, and he never would be. _'What's normal anyway?' _he retorted to that annoying voice.

He didn't understand what he felt towards Snape. It was so confusing. He hated him, he didn't trust him for an instant, yet he wanted to place himself in those yellowed hands, yellow like the pages of an old book. Oh, to feel Snape curl his treacherous claws around Harry, trapping him, so there was no escape from the feelings that he tried to hide from…

He stepped out into the hall, where he met Luna, who was dazzling and bright in her shining silver robes.

"Wow, Luna, you look…great!"

"Thank you, Harry," she said dreamily as she followed him to where Slughorn's party was taking place.

Harry opened the door for Luna, who gave him a whimsical smile before stepping into the room. He followed her in and scanned the party for fellow Gryffindors.

"Harry! Harry!"

Harry pivoted to where the yell was coming from, and saw Hermione rushing at him with Mclaggen in tow. Luna floated over to where Ginny stood alone as Harry grinned.

"How's the party so far?"

"Good," Hermione said cheerfully, giving a sideway glance to Mclaggen, who was hovering over her like a guard dog. Harry gave her a sympathetic smile.

Soon, he found himself wandering towards where Slughorn stood, laughing jovially and guzzling a drink from a giant mug.

"Severus!" cried Slughorn, and Harry felt a little jolt inside him, and his stomach flipped.

Snape scowled at them from behind his curtain of greasy black hair.

Harry was losing himself again, losing himself in the emotions that flooded him when those midnight eyes penetrated him, when he was so close to Snape that he could smell him, the warm, clean scent of freshly washed clothes, and a hint of something else…his skin…

Snape's bare skin.

At that thought, Harry felt hot waves rush inside him and collide together, sending warmth through every inch of his body.

He couldn't recall the conversation, he couldn't understand what they were saying, it wasn't important, he had to remember what it felt like, being so close to Snape.

Suddenly Filch barged in, dragging Draco Malfoy behind him.

"Caught this one outside, Professors,"

Annoyance and something else that looked like worry flashed across Snape's face, but the emotions on his face were gone as fast as they had appeared.

"Come with me," Snape hissed, while Slughorn waved his drink in the air.

"Now, now, Severus, it's Christmas, let the boy have some fun--"

"I am his head of house, and I will decide how to discipline him."

Slughorn shrugged and took a swig of his drink as Snape swept out of the room with Draco following him. Snape was so graceful that next to him, Draco seemed like a bumbling child tripping over his own two feet.

After a few moments, Harry turned to follow Snape.

"Harry?" There was a question in Hermione's voice, and Harry had a feeling that she knew about his feelings towards Snape, more than she had ever revealed.

Harry mumbled an excuse and retreated out the door, not even registering what he had said to Hermione. He could feel her eyes on him, watching as he left the party to follow the object of his obsession.

"—could help you!"

"I don't need your help!" Draco snarled, and stormed down the corridor furiously.

Harry could feel his legs moving of their own accord, and he stepped into the dark room. It was barely lit, a single candle burning in the corner, and Snape was standing, facing the doorway.

Facing Harry.

"_You."_ Snape hissed out the word in a single breath, and Harry glanced down at his feet.

"Yeah, me," Harry mumbled awkwardly, scuffing the toes of his shoes on the floor absentmindedly.

"What is it you need?" Snape snapped. "I have things to attend to."

"Um."

"How articulate, Potter. I do not have time for this." He brushed past Harry, his robes swirling around him, and before Harry could stop himself, he grabbed onto a piece of his robe.

Snape spun around and in one fluid motion, pinned Harry to the wall. Their breath mingled as Snape stared into Harry's eyes, and Harry willed himself not to break as those dark, stormy eyes penetrated his own.

"No. No." Harry whimpered. He knew what Snape was going to do, and he could do nothing to stop it. Unbidden, images from his dreams floated to the forefront of his mind, and Harry tried to break eye contact, but there was something in Snape's eyes that had him frozen.

Heat flooded those dark eyes, and Harry could feel his heart beat accelerate as his stomach flopped. Fire laced through his veins as Snape's hand slid up the contours of Harry's body until he reached his face.

Snape gripped Harry's chin firmly, and Harry let out a strangled grunt of surprise as the fingers dug sharply into his skin.

"You are a foolish, naïve little boy," Snape murmured, leaning in closer to Harry until his breath wafted over the shell of his ear. Harry shivered.

"I have often wondered what it would be like," Snape whispered provocatively in his ear, "to take the Gryffindor golden boy as my own." Those sharp yellow teeth bit into his ear, and Harry shuddered in pleasure against him. Snape's lips trailed down his neck, and to the sensitive skin of his throat. He licked the tender flesh, his hot, wet tongue a stark contrast from his dry lips.

Harry never wanted this to end. He wanted it to go on and on forever. He wanted to always feel the heat of Snape's lean body, to feel Snape's heart pumping close to his own.

Snape's lips left his neck, and before Harry could murmur his protest, he found himself on top of a nearby table. With a primal growl, Snape vaulted on top of him like a predatory animal cornering its prey. He slid Harry's robes off, and then impatiently ripped the clothes that Harry wore underneath them.

It was too much, too soon, but so perfect…Harry had never felt anything like this before, this hungry fire that raged inside of him, threatening to consume him whole.

Harry reached up to touch Snape, who was sucking forcefully at his neck again, and Snape froze. Harry fiddled with the buttons on Snape's frock coat, looking up at the man with a question in his eyes. Snape stared down at Harry's hands, his breath hot and heavy, and Harry's fingers trembled. With a snort, Snape brushed Harry's hands away and divested himself of his clothes until he was in nothing but his trousers. He threw his frock coat and shirt over to where his discarded robes lay, and then settled on top of Harry once more, nipping sharply at Harry's skin with crooked teeth.

Harry moaned as he felt that pale, feverishly hot flesh meld with his own sweat slicked skin, their bodies rubbing together in perfect harmony. He reached up to clutch a hank of Snape's oily hair, and Snape rumbled against his throat.

Suddenly Snape ripped his mouth away from Harry's neck and stared down at him, his usually stoic face now filled with a look of apprehension. Harry didn't want that, he wanted _this, _what was happening right now. He gazed up at Snape, silently imploring him to take what was so readily offered. Snape growled and captured Harry's lips with his own, and Harry moved eagerly with him, wanting to feel more…he would do anything to keep that wonderful feeling inside of him. Thin, chapped lips moved against his own, a warm, welcoming tongue snaked into his mouth and plundered it without mercy.

Harry sighed into Snape's mouth, and Snape swallowed the noise down, pressing his hard, sharp body down onto Harry. Harry broke away from Snape, gasping like a fish out of water.

"Please," Harry begged, wriggling underneath his teacher. Snape smirked.

"Do you want me to take you, Potter?"

Harry almost sobbed as he nodded his head fiercely.

Snape stroked the side of his face, almost tenderly, and then reached down. Soon, he was touching Harry in such a place that made Harry gasp and bury his head into the crook of Snape's neck.

Snape chuckled darkly. "So needy. You poor, deprived child. Have you no one else to turn to but me?"

Harry cringed. "No. I could, I guess." There was always Ginny, but she was like a sister to him. Besides, he had caught her watching Luna on more than one occasion. "I don't know why, okay? It's you, you're doing something to me, you put a spell on me…"

"There is no spell," Snape breathed, running his hands down the contours of Harry's body. "Do you really crave this, Potter? My touch?"

Harry hesitated for a brief instant. "…Yes."

Harry could hear Snape's controlled breathing falter slightly.

"Why?"

"Why does there have to be an explanation? Sir?" Harry sighed as Snape's fingers roamed farther up to grip his arousal firmly.

"Hmph." Snape panted out a single breath, and the hand that slid over Harry's hard flesh quickened its pace. Soon, Harry was arching up to meet Snape's warm body, and they collided together as pleasure shot through every vein in Harry's body. He cried out, but the sound was muffled by Snape's mouth, which was on him yet again, swallowing up every sound he made.

Harry fell backward on to the table, his head flopping lazily as Snape cast a spell on his trousers, which were now dripping with Harry's seed.

Harry blushed. "Don't you-"

"Don't I what, Mr. Potter?"

"Want to, er, you know…"

"That will not be necessary," Snape stated smoothly. "I do not require anything."

"But--" Harry spread his legs invitingly, watching, _waiting_ to see what Snape would do.

Snape glared at him, but there was no mistaking the flicker of need Harry saw in his dark eyes.

"If this is what you wish…"

"It is," Harry persisted, reaching up to tangle his hands in Snape's dirty hair. Snape slapped his hand away impatiently as he climbed on top of him once more, smoothly undoing the zipper to his trousers and positioning himself at Harry's entrance.

Snape hastily whispered a spell, and Harry felt his entrance become slick. He could feel the blunt tip of Snape's arousal pressing into him, and he clutched the bare skin on the man's back as that hard shaft breached him.

Snape let out a quiet grunt, and slowly began thrusting into him at a steady pace. Harry closed his eyes as pain and pleasure merged together into one entity, dancing inside of him, stoking the fire that rose higher and higher once more.

"No," Snape breathed, caressing the side of Harry's face …almost…affectionately. "Keep your eyes open."

Obediently, Harry opened his eyes, and he was startled to see the intensity of the blaze that was burning in Snape's black orbs. Snape pushed into him, deeper, faster, harder…all the while staring into Harry's eyes.

A wet heat filled Harry, and with a final moan, Snape thrust once more, shuddering against Harry in rapture.

Snape pulled out of Harry with a sigh, and rested next to him on the table, gathering him into his arms. "Are you satisfied?" Snape murmured, his velvet voice coaxing a shiver from Harry's body.

"Never," Harry yawned, relishing the warmth that radiated from Snape's sweaty form.

They rested like that for a few minutes, and Harry wished that it could last for a long time. But soon, Snape lifted himself off of the table, taking Harry with him.

They dressed, and Harry stole a glance at Snape's body. It was as unattractive as the rest of the man, but somehow, the sight of it heated Harry's insides.

"You will return to the party," Snape ordered. "You will tell no one of this meaningless endeavor."

Meaningless? Harry felt the word rip through him as if he were parchment.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled.

"Now go."

Harry ran.

…………………………………………..

Hermione placed a hand on Harry's shoulder as he took a gulp of butter beer. It wouldn't get him very drunk, but it was better than nothing.

"Is there anything you want to talk about, Harry?" Hermione asked, her voice full of sympathy. Sympathy wasn't what he needed.

He needed…

_Warm hands, chapped lips, hard body…_

He glanced over at Snape, who was conversing with the vampire Sanguini, looking intrigued by what the vampire had to say.

'_At least you had a taste.'_

But he still craved for more.

Harry could feel tears build up in his throat, and he excused himself to the bathroom. When he finally reached it, he leaned on the sink, breathing heavily as wetness dripped from his emerald eyes.

'_At least you had that much.'_

It was better than nothing.

Then why did he feel that there was a part of a puzzle piece missing from his heart?

…………………………………………….

It felt so surreal, as Harry walked towards the silent figure that stood in the dark corridor. Snape glowered at him, his hooked nose illuminated in the candle light.

"Why are you still here, Mr. Potter? All students should be in bed right now."

Harry wanted to say so much, but the words were stuck in the back of his throat as if an insect was weaving a hazy cocoon around them.

"Go to bed, Potter," Snape hissed, and he pivoted around, his robes billowing majestically around him.

"Wait!"

Snape paused.

Harry gathered up all of his Gryffindor courage, and stepped closer to Snape.

"The night is still young," he whispered, and for an instant, he wondered if Snape even heard him. But Snape turned slowly, regarding at him with that hungry glint in his eyes again, and Harry could feel himself surrendering once more.

"It is," Snape murmured, and with that, he swept down the corridor like a dark fog.

Harry did the only thing that he could think of doing in that instant.

He followed.

Soon they were in Snape's office, and the cold, dank air made goose bumps rise from Harry's flesh.

Snape turned to face him again, and raised a single brow.

Harry sank to his knees before his professor, and Snape's breath hitched.

"Please," Harry said softly.

Snape shook his head, running a hand through Harry's unkempt hair. "You don't need to do anything," he murmured. "You are here. That is enough."

The missing puzzle piece found its way back to where it belonged.

Snape grasped his shoulder and guided him up, and he stared into Harry's eyes once more. There was something indescribable in Snape's eyes, and Harry trembled as he reached his neck up and brushed his lips against Snape's.

Heat unfurled in the pit of his belly as their lips moved together, their tongues meeting in an erotic dance. Harry found himself pushed up against Snape's desk, and he broke away panting, staring up at the man expectantly.

Snape pressed up against Harry, leaning down to whisper in his ear, and Harry couldn't comprehend words. He could only feel, feel so many different emotions erupt inside of him like a fiery volcano. They broke apart, and Harry tried to catch his breath, but he was panting, and his heart was beating so fast…

"It is time for you to go, now," Snape murmured, his voice as silky as a fragrant rose petal. Harry blinked up at Snape drowsily.

"I guess," Harry answered, though he did not want to leave. He turned towards the door, and then snapped his head back towards Snape."Tomorrow is Saturday."

Snape smirked. "That it is, Potter. And?"

"Can I—well, what I mean is, I need help with certain spells for the next class."

"Woeful as your academic career may be, Potter, I seem to recall that you have an aptitude for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry begged silently, willing Snape to see the plea in his eyes.

Snape's hard, cold eyes softened slightly. "Yes, yes, come in tomorrow, and bring your textbook."

Harry couldn't contain the broad smile that stretched across his face. "See you tomorrow, then, sir."

Snape nodded abruptly and turned .

"Good night," Harry said softly. He stepped out of the room and headed for the Gryffindor common room, his head teeming with flashes of that night's events. It was so hard to believe that any of this had happened. It felt like a dream. He pinched himself as he walked up the stairs to reassure himself that it was not just another fantasy.

Harry slipped out of his robes and into his pajamas and crawled into bed. He had tomorrow to look forward to, now.

Finally, the pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together.

The End.


End file.
